


With Broken Bones and Tattered Clothes

by Gayer_Yet_Gayer (IronicAppreciation)



Category: Homestuck
Genre: A little, F/F, I tried to be optimistic ok?, It's hard, John is dying, M/M, Married!Pepsicola, Oops, Sadstuck, happy-ish ending, it's hard and no one understands, sort of
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-14
Updated: 2016-09-14
Packaged: 2018-08-15 01:29:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 736
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8036911
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IronicAppreciation/pseuds/Gayer_Yet_Gayer
Summary: "I've got you..."      "I've got you."





	With Broken Bones and Tattered Clothes

“Woooooah, slow down, I got you. You’re okay. I got you.”

He was barely breathing, the heaving of his chest innate and inconsistent, shuddering every now and again and occasionally groaning in conspicuous pain.

He had just nearly fallen from the hospital bed, straining the chords attached to his frail body into taut wires, murmuring something inconceivably and shivering, despite the myriad of quilts and blankets strewn upon him.

“Is something wrong? Does anything hurt?”

Groan.

“I can’t hear you, dude. You’re gonna have to speak up a little.”

He knew full well that no one would be elevating their volume anytime soon, or consciously attempting to convey adequate coherency, but it was all he could do to prevent himself from bawling perpetually like a disgruntled infant.

“Hey, Rose made you another blanket, uhh, thing.”

“A rug, Strider. It’s called a RUG.”

He turned abruptly to grin meekly at the woman draped in an elegant black dress that fell just above her knees, with her bare shoulder wrapped snugly with a dark violet shawl and her short blonde hair pulled neatly back with a pearl-studded headband.

“Sup?”

She ignored his curt greeting and approached the bedside tentatively, eyes construed solely on the broken boy under the rugs.

“How is he?” she whispered practically inaudibly.

“He’s great actually. Yeah, up on his feet and TOTALLY not in a coma just a few minutes ago, you barely missed it!”

His crude wit was rewarded with a sharp elbow in the ribs, succeeded mildly by, “You’re getting even bonier. Jade is going to forcefeed you one of these days.”

“Yeah, yeah, I know.”

A silence settled that was only interrupted by a drip, drip, drip, concurring from the medicine pocket elevated above the bed, mediating between two pale sets of hair, neither daring to look at the other, for fear of breaking, right then and there.

“We’re broke, Rose.”

It was hardly even a sound, disappearing in the desperation of the air, evaporating impalpably and instantaneously, stifled by the harsh reality of the cold, dismal, hospital room.

But she heard it.

“What?”

He shivered, fingers intermingling correspondently, tangled and vibrating ambiguously, as he spoke, “We’re already in debt. I-I’m trying to get extra work wherever I can, a-and I’m working overtime at the lab, but it’s not, it’s just not…”

His voice stumbled, and his falter was lost in the void. She stared at him with penetratingly volatile lilac eyes, unwavering as they locked on him incredulously.

“…Dave…”

“It’s just…”

“Why didn’t you say something earlier?”

He glanced up from his precarious staring contest with his palms, finally meeting her gaze.

“What?”

“Kan and I, we can help. We’ll help pay the hospital bills. We’ll help-”

“No. Rose, I-. No.”

Her brows furrowed and she gripped his arm vehemently.

“This isn’t your choice.”

He gulped, shaking yet more deterringly as he endeavored in vain to free his incarcerated limb.

“I-I can’t ask you to…”

“You’re not. I’m TELLING you.”

And, for the first time, she smiled, pursed black lips splitting to display brilliantly white, glimmering teeth. It wasn’t a smirk or a grin or a grimace. It was a smile. She SMILED.

His eyes fell from her face to his fingers, and as she followed his stare, the gleam of something stated golden caught her glance. He was fidgeting with the elegant, worn ring sat tentatively on his bony middle finger, glaring at it with putrid distaste and subliminal conflict. She panicked as she assessed his intentions and struggled to maintain repose as she flung forward and grabbed his hand.

“NO.”

The tears began cascading as she stared at him intently, unwavering as she tightened her fingers round his own.

“I don’t want to bu-”

“Then don’t.”

“But I-”

“Why won’t you let me help you? I’m your sister.”

“He wouldn’t want-”

“And HE’S your husband. I think he’d understand borrowing money from not only compliant but INSISTENT family to prevent selling your wedding ri-”

“Please don’t say it.”

He was whimpering now, but her glare was unyielding, resolute as she softly began massaging his hand still within her own.

“It’s hurting you just to HEAR it.” Her voice was soft, mellifluous, consoling.

“Let me help you, please. I love you both so, so much. Please.”

And, although he said nothing in response, the soft squeeze of his hand on hers was enough assurance that everything would be alright.

 

**Author's Note:**

> I'll update Goner in a few days, promise


End file.
